Society Moves Forward

 I was just going through the piano bench I inherited along with my Nana's piano, and I smiled while looking at all the brilliant piano pieces she used (and sometimes created) to motivate small fingers and young souls to play. From "Little River Flowing" to "The King of France Went Up the Hill", I read her gentle pencil writing and remembered watching my sisters and then my toddler niblings play each of the songs and then turn around, eager for applause. My grandparents' living room was filled with applause...not just for us Bengels but for decades of piano students. I have always felt like piano was my birthright, and with it comes the joy and responsibility to pass music on, generously, lovingly, wherever I can.

However, there among Nana's notes were lyrics to some songs that would be grounds for firing a teacher nowadays. I am uncomfortable writing (or even thinking) some of the cultural stereotypes that became unnecessary lyrics for the beginning piano student. It wasn't just her songs, but the time period-- our culture is filled with songs that belong in the historical category of "what NOT to do". Nana wasn't a racist, but all my grandparents came from a different generation. Nothing she said was done with hatred, but silly names and broad generalizations were what she had learned and what she didn't think twice about passing on.

It wasn't just her. I remember my HORROR when my other grandmother (who was the model activist in our family, volunteering on the AIDS floor of a county hospital when nobody else would do so) spoke disparagingly of the increased diversity at Jones Beach. As a teenager, I stopped her in her tracks and let her know about why the parkways on Long Island had strict rules against busses: to keep people from the city OUT. I reminded her that she, too, came from the city. She stepped back, apologized, and learned. Later, she wrote me a thank you letter, and said that she may not have known to "talk the talk" but she always would "walk the walk". It's true; she did. And she was also willing to grow.

My parents took my sisters and me to visit many different cultures. They encouraged us to learn languages, to read books, to watch films, and to learn about (and love) people who are different from us. However, it was a different time period. I was taught that "color doesn't matter". That sounded kind and inclusive, until one year when I was teaching a group of at-risk sixth grade students at a Summerbridge program. On the last day, a little girl named Tiffany pulled me aside and let me know how important it was that she had met me. "You're the only other person I know like me, the only person who can understand what it is like to have a black dad and a white mom." (Long Island had and has a lot of de-facto segregation.). I remember gasping; because of my independent hair, she assumed I was biracial. This was crucial to her; she needed role models like herself. She needed to feel a part of the story, a part of society. Suddenly, I understood that color DOES matter; it affects each of our self-view and all too often how society treats us. (It became a big lesson for Tiffany and for me; we are still in touch, and she loves me even though I am not bi-racial!)

An aside: in 2003, I went to Romania. It was so odd to be in a country where the majority of the people looked like me!

Back to the topic of how our cultures change what is acceptable...

I am not upset with my Nana for the lyrics, or with Grandma for her statements about Jones Beach. I am not upset with my parents for teaching me that color doesn't matter, and I am not upset with myself for not being what young Tiffany wanted me to be. However, I think that if any of us had grown up in the 21st Century, these linguistic patterns and beliefs would have been problematic.

The speaker at my graduation this year expressed how America was a series of protests, leading us closer to the ideal of freedom for all...but that we are not there yet. Nana's music and the memories it elicited in me were a reminder that we have moved forward in the past 40 years, and that we still have a long way to go.

I decided to take the melody of Nana's "Nan Kee Poo" (oy!) and rewrite the words so the song can endure, not just as a historical item but as a melody that is healthier for future generations. This led me to think about the monuments issue: do we keep monuments that represent the past but don't uphold the values of the present? Where do we draw the line? Can I be okay with taking down a statue to Hitler? (yes). Can I be okay with taking down a "Don't Tread on Me" Civil-War style statue? (yes). Do I think we need many more ways to commemorate people of minorities who have helped create a better world? (Certainly).

However, I also think we need to consider historical (and familial) heroes from the time period from which they come. As a society, we are growing (I hope). As communities, as families, and as individuals we are also growing. None of us is finished. We all have imperfections and we all can aspire to improve. I sometimes wonder which of my "woke" (haha) traits will be viewed at with consternation in the future. Probably I will be shunned by future generations for my treatment of the earth. But there may be other issues with my values that will also be put into question. Does that mean the opus of my writings and teachings should be thrown out? Hopefully, the future will look upon me (and all of us) with an understanding that we do the best with what we have in the time when we live.

Dorothy Canfield Fisher was one of my favorite authors when I was a child. You might have read "Understood Betsy", or you might have heard about her because of her strong affiliations with Lawrence, Kansas and Arlington, Vermont (two places near and dear to my heart) or thanks to a Children's Literature Award that was in her name for decades until 2020. I also have followed her because of her strong efforts for the education of underserved groups and for refugees. However, she also had flaws-- significant ones-- in her stereotypical treatment of First Peoples and French Canadians, and in her activism for eugenics (ugh). As a result, the writing honor that was named for her was recently renamed the "Vermont Golden Dome Book Award".

Just as I don't think Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss should be written out of culture because of their myopic, time-bound views of different cultures, I don't think Dorothy Canfield Fisher's books or my Nana's offerings should be erased. We can take parts of their opus that speak to the people of today and let go of the thoughts that society has thought better of. Nancy Drew books have been updated to speak to females of today. Holly Hobbie has gotten a new look, too! Society is beginning to have a wider array of cultures represented in theater, movies, children's literature, museums, and more. It's a beginning.

We can't shun all the scientists before Copernicus for thinking the Earth was the center of the universe. We haven't stopped teaching the Ancient Greek and Roman cultures-- but trust me, those slaves who were turned into gladiators had life spans that would make headlines from activists today.

Society moves forward. We need to keep moving ourselves and our communities forward to a world that is kinder and more just, a world that is inclusive but not stereotypical. But we cannot forget where we have come from, and we cannot forget the love we have been given.

My piano bench contains the handwritten copies of songs that taught my four-year-old fingers to play...I don't remember a time when I didn't play the piano. I don't remember learning; it's just something that I do. The piano is an extension of myself. Through the piano, I have made friends all over the world. I have taught people songs from all over the world. I have learned about other traditions from songs I have played. Nana gave me that, too. She is a living statue in my fingers each time I play. I don't need to keep the prejudices of the 20th century, but I will not let go of the love.